


Take Me Back (To The Start)

by badjujuboo (miztrezboo)



Series: Twenty Five Days of Lirry Christmas [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miztrezboo/pseuds/badjujuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They say that airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls. That the walls of hospitals hear more sincere prayers than the walls of churches.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Harry agrees with them both.</i>
</p>
<p>or: A love story told backwards in less than ten parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Back (To The Start)

**Author's Note:**

> hahah i promise, I PROMISE not to just write angst for this Christmas thing. i really do... but this is, well, The Scientist, by Coldplay came on the radio and my brain went to a very bad place. Just think about the video clip and this is .. kind of that narrative. Soz in advance!
> 
> WARNING: does include a not so loveable Louis, a hospital scene, car accident (off screen and barely mentioned).

They say that airports see more sincere kisses than wedding halls. That the walls of hospitals hear more sincere prayers than the walls of churches.

Harry agrees with them both.

. . . The End . . .

"Please. Please don't take him away from me. I've just. . . I need more. . . just please. Please don't."

Liam lies there still and Harry listens as the machine beeps evenly, hears the whoosh and click that shifts Liam's lungs and he weeps. He weeps and he pleads to every god, every possible entity, because it can't end.

It can't end like this.

 

. . . 4 . . . 

He was having the best dream. It was all white sand and crystal clear blue waters as far as the eye could see. Not a person to be found. Not even a wisp of cloud in the sky.

Just Harry and Mother Nature at her finest and.

And Liam by his side.

Liam smiling that little half smile that Harry knew was for him and him alone.

Liam's skin all tan and golden in the sun and his hand a warm, reassuring presence in Harry's own.

He smiled and the sun smiled and Harry smiled and it was perfect.

Utterly perfect.

Except for this ridiculous beeping sound. 

Harry breathed in and out and Liam sat up, pointed over Harrys shoulder but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

"I can't hear you," Harry said and Liam shook his head, pointed again, his mouth moving without a sound.

Just this ringing, kind of like a phone, but there wasn't one. Not here. Not where they were alone.

The muscles in Liam's throat stand out and it looks like he's yelling at Harry now but nothing, nothing but this bloody ringing that won't stop. Harry sits up, swings his feet around and reaches out to hold Liam's face, anything to get him to calm down, and then he's awake.

He blinks in the darkness, the room still as pitch black as it was when he fell asleep hours before. All alone in this bed for two that Liam was meant to be sharing but he wasn't even in the same _country_ anymore.

Harry sits up, rubs at his eyes and tries to remember what on earth he was dreaming about when the phone buzzes on the bedside drawer.

He picks it up without a second thought, answers, even though Louis face comes up with "Demon Spawn' as the caller ID because lately, that's what Harry thinks about him.

He doesn't get a word out before Louis is sobbing down the line.

These choked out, painful, cries mixed with words that have Harry far more awake than he was before. Have his stomach setting to stone, his heart, physically stopping if not just slowed.

"Liam, oh fuck, i'm sorry, shouldn't have. Harry I'm - " Louis spits out but then his voice is gone and Niall. Niall's there and that's okay because it's Niall and Harry likes Niall.

This can't be bad news if it's Niall. It's physically impossible. 

"Harry, it's Liam. I've booked you the next flight home. He's, well he's not okay, there was an accident and he's got. . ."

Harry doesn't hear the rest of Niall's words. Things like "icy road" and "head trauma" and "putting him into a medically induced coma, just for a while" he misses completely.

He's already packing his things, fear pushing his heart to beat to the sound of _LiamLiamLiam_ , his mind set on getting to Liam's side.

 

. . . 3 . . .

 

They were rushing. Liam was cranky and Harry was annoyed because it Christmas. It was Harry's most favourite time of the year, and instead of spending it together, Liam was flying back to London and it wasn't _fair_. 

"I'm not even going to attempt to find a park, you only have one bag," Harry spits tersely, pulling the Range Rover into the drop off bay.

Liam says nothing, just shakes his head and sighs which makes Harry squeeze the wheel even harder. He should have said he'd come, too. Just packed his things alongside Liam's and paid for the extra ticket, even though he wasn't invited. 

Who bloody got married at Christmas? 

Louis bloody Tomlinson. That's who.

Tosser.

"I'll ring you when I get there," Liam says as he opens the door and it closes again just as Harry's calling back, "Don't bother! I'll be sleeping!"

Even though he knows he won't.

He never sleeps without Liam beside him. Well, not properly.

Harry sits there for a moment, fumes silently because the situation is ridiculous. Harry's never done anything to really offend Louis but he dislikes him all the same. Enough not to invite Harry to his wedding - just Harry's boyfriend - who also happens to be Louis' best friend. It's so stupid that Louis tries to make Liam choose all the time but Liam won't see it. Can't see anything but the good in Louis which Harry could change so quickly if he chose to reveal all the things Louis has said to him. All the bullshit about Harry not being good enough, not being _enough_ for Liam. Not like Louis could be. Not like Louis was before Harry came around. 

Not even now, with Harry and Liam being together for six years and Louis about to get married will Louis let it go.

It's not Harry's fault that Liam picked him over Louis. It's not Harry's fault that Liam didn't even think about Louis as a possibility back then. It's not Harry's fault that Louis was always, _always_ just going to be Liam's friend and nothing more.

Louis doesn't see it like that and Liam won't be anything _but_ a good friend to Louis, even though it annoys Harry no end.

He knows he shouldn't let Louis get to him. Even after all this time, but it's _Christmas_ and they'd booked this holiday to Italy last year and Louis _knew_ about it but still arranges for his freaking wedding at the same time. It took the very best of Liam's puppy eyes and pleading so Louis was fine with him having half his holiday with Harry only to fly back for the ceremony and fly back the next morning.

Christmas morning.

By the time he arrived it would be afternoon and that. . . that wasn't good enough, as far as Harry was concerned.

He had plans to wake up in Liam's arms and kiss him slow and sweet while the snow fell gently to the ground outside the giant windows that overlooked the farmland where their villa was.

Now he hadn't even got to kiss Liam goodbye.

He groaned at himself, head dropping down to hit the top of the wheel when, a honk behind startling him into sitting upright. Without warning, his door opened and Liam was there. His full lips pressed hard against Harry's, soft leather glove clad hand pressed to Harry's jaw.

"I'll call."

Harry blinked, Liam's dark brown eyes coming into view and everything he was so annoyed with before seemingly floated out into the cold air that blew around them both. 

"I'll answer."

. . . 2 . . . 

 

"This could be us one day," Liam says and Harry stops laughing at where Louis is having this wild argument with Perrie, who's only bloody trying to organise Louis' stupid wedding for him, free of charge.

He blinks and stands stock still, jerking Liam back where there hands are joined as they walked along through the middle of the church, taking in the stained glass. 

"I'm sorry?" Harry says, voice cracking like it hasn't done since he was sixteen. Because _what?_

Liam shrugs, cheeks stained red, the bright colour spilling down his neck and into the space left where Harry undid his tie and pulled it out from it's knot an hour before. An hour where they'd discovered that no one was using the side rooms where the bride and groom waited and Harry _couldn't_ wait to get Liam's cock in his mouth.

They'd basically defiled a holy place - by proxy maybe - and here was Liam saying. . . saying. . . .

"What exactly are you saying, Liam?" Harry asked and he feels like he's shaking, licks at his lips because Liam's dropping to the floor. He's kneeling down and Harry actually feels like he might swoon. Swooning _must_ feel like this.

"Get the fuck up Liam right now," he swears and Liam laughs, shaking his head and oh, leans forward to tie Harry's shoes up.

Harry does stumble a little then, grabs the end of a pew for support as his heart still beats rapidly, his breath still coming mostly in gasps.

Liam stands, still giggling, face redder than a beet, hands sliding up Harry's arms until he's cupping Harry's face with both hands. He leans in and Harry has to hold onto Liam's hips just so he won't embarrass himself completely by falling to the floor.

The same floor Liam was just _down on one knee_ on.

Liam brushes the tip of his nose against Harry's, "I didn't mean like, now you twat," he's grinning so bloody wide and he's still _right there_ so Harry has to blink to make Liam have two eyes not one. "We've just moved bought our first house and I love you but, one day. I'm just saying. One day."

Harry pinches Liam's side and kisses him quick. A "you nearly gave me a heart attack you utter wanker but it's moments like these where I love you most" kind of kiss.

"One day," Harry nods and then Louis calls and Liam kisses him once more before he's off, back to Louis and his endless pre marital dramas.

. . . The Beginning . . . 

 

Harry was shite at maths. Shite at maths and this fucking course was going to _kill_ him and it wasn't fair. He'd worked so damn hard this semester and this one fucking bullshit test was going to end it all. He was stupid to come back and do these last two years of college. He should have just gone to technical school with his mate Jaime or tried a bit harder in that band with Will. He shouldn't have listened to his mum and her "you can do anything you set your mind to, sweetheart," talks. He couldn't be a bloody _lawyer_. There was no way he'd pass college let alone get into uni. 

He should just give up now. Go home, ring Niall, get weed from Ed and just fuck about playing COD and maybe snog a bit because Niall was always up for a good snog. Maybe he'd even get a gentlemanly handy out of it, Niall was always up for a bit of rub and tug when he was blissed out.

Anything better than fucking algebra and . . . god, Harry had no idea what the fuck else he was supposed to be studying but there were loads of numbers and it made his head ache.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, bloody buggering bollocks!" he muttered, as quietly as possible, against the table that he was also hitting his head against. Maybe he could brain himself and not have to do the test because they couldn't possibly fail someone with concussion or worse. . . .

Could they?

"Harry?" 

And Harry's day just got infinitely worse.

"Hi Liam,"

He doesn't lift his head. He knows exactly what eager, over achiever, slightly stupid Liam "school sweetheart" Payne will look like. He shouldn't say stupid, that's not the best of words and he'd never say it out loud - but Liam _is_ a little slow on the uptake in all the classes he and Harry have together. Which is nearly all of them.

"Hey, I thought that was you. Um, having trouble with our Trigonometry studies?" 

_So that's what this is_ , Harry thinks to himself. "Yes, yeah. If that's what all these numbers are supposed to be doing, that."

Liam laughs loud and then it falls quiet fast, like he's covered his mouth. Harry knows he probably has done because they're in the library and as nice as Ms Flack is about them chatting in here instead of studying most of the time, she _is_ fairly strict on noise levels and Liam's laugh - as lovely as it sounds - isn't exactly quiet.

"I could, I mean. If you wanted to, but I'm sure you don't because you have loads of friends and I know for a fact that Perrie aced this class last year, but maybe, if you wanted I'm really, I could - "

Harry lifts his head up enough so that he can see Liam just over the curve his crossed arms make. He must look at Liam like he's nuts or something, because Liam blushes and it's . . . it's sort of sweet and endearing and has Liam always had these _arms_? He's wearing some awfully tight white shirt, his signature black jacket that's seen better days, slung over his arm. 

Hot. Hot is one word that comes to mind and maybe Harry will have to take Liam up on his "help." Maybe Harry won't hear a word - they'll both barely make a pass - but maybe it leads to a first date and a second and a third and after that they stop counting. The day they get their A levels is when Harry first says "I love you," without it being off hand about Liam shouting the first round at Niall's uncle's bar where they get in without a card. Liam's face lights up and Harry swears, in that moment he forgot about the existence of time. Forgot how to breathe until Liam said his name and "Same, yeah? Same," in return.

 

. . . The Real Ending . . .

The machines are switched off. 

No more lights.

No more sounds.

Liam breathes in.

Harry breathes out.

"Harry."

. . . The end is the beginning is the end is the beginning is the end is the


End file.
